“I gave you the best and second-best orgasms of your entire life,” I said. “You were mumbling incoherent things about chocolate and wine.”
“It’s starting to come back to me,” she said, running her fingers through her tangled curls. “That was because it was better than all of those things combined.” Avery sounded a little dejected. “Yep,” she said half to herself. “Now that the wine has drained out of my brain, I am definitely remembering how good it felt.”
“I could give you another refresher,” I offered. “You’re looking a little tense.”
“I have a hangover. My mouth feels like stale, nasty cotton candy, and my vision is swimming slightly. I need a shower. I have drool on my face, and my hair is a rat’s nest around my head. You do not want me.”
“You’re beautiful,” I said, gazing down at her, a dopey smile on my face. Normally I did not do dopey, but Avery made me want to decorate cupcakes, paint pictures of her, and spend all day in bed eating her out then fucking her.
“You sure you don’t want a repeat of last night?” I offered lightly, tugging the covers down and revealing her tits, the nipples pink against the pale skin. I kissed the mound of her breast softly then sucked a nipple, rolling it with my tongue.
“I did have the no-sex rule,” she gasped. Avery put a hand on the back of my neck but didn’t push me away. Her head tipped back, and her legs spread slightly. “But I guess,” she whimpered as I trailed my fingers up under her skirt, “I guess this isn’t technically sex, right?”
“This is absolutely not sex,” I assured her, pressing kisses along her neck then her mouth. “This is the furthest thing from sex. When we do have sex—”
“Which we won’t,” she interjected, then moaned as I stroked her pussy.
“You’ll know when we have sex,” I whispered, nipping her ear as her hips bucked against my hand. “You’re going to feel every inch of my hard cock as I slide into your tight little pussy, just as wet and silky as it is right now.”
“Yes,” she breathed.
“You’re going to spread your legs and beg me for every inch of my thick, hard cock.” I slipped two fingers into her opening as I dipped my head to nuzzle her tits, sucking one nipple then the other. My fingers moved up to tease her clit.
“You’re going to beg me. You’re going to ride my cock, those perfect tits bouncing as I fuck your pussy.” I stroked her clit harder, and she let out a needy whimper. “You’ll be bent over the bed, my hand on your ass as I give you every inch of my thick, hard cock, coming in your tight little pussy.”
She let out a cry as she came, shuddering, against me.
“As good as you remembered it?” I asked, nuzzling her neck.
“Better. I’m sober and could enjoy it,” she said, half sprawled against me.
“You want breakfast?” I kissed her.
“I need a shower first. I smell like sex and booze.”
“You smell good,” I said.
Avery shifted against me, and my cock jumped.
“Oh,” she said, looking down, “I can, um—”
I cut her off, kissing her roughly.
“The first time you make me come, it’s going to be in your pussy,” I whispered to her. Her eyes were big. “Enjoy your shower.”
“Might be better with you in it?” She didn’t sound completely sure.
“Before I fuck you, I want you begging for me,” I told her simply, then went back to the kitchen.
40
Avery
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I said to my reflection in the mirror.
I looked down at my phone. The message light was blinking. There were messages from my grandmother’s friend Ida asking me what type of food I wanted at the engagement party. Shirley and Edward had texted, demanding details about the evening. There were about twenty messages from several unknown numbers that were clearly Nathan. That was a stark reminder that sex and fake relationships did not mix.
It did feel nice.
